


Mistletoe

by far_out_fangirl



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far_out_fangirl/pseuds/far_out_fangirl
Summary: Annabel Lee knows exactly what she wants for Christmas. Unfortunately, Edgar has no idea how to deal with emotions.Written for Shipwrecked's Five Year anniversary contest.





	Mistletoe

There was only one thing Annabel Lee wanted for Christmas, and it involved mistletoe.

A new dress or hair ribbon wouldn’t do her much good- she was a  _ghost_ , after all, and her appearance was fixed in time. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to spread a little more rouge on her cheeks, or perhaps even change into a dress more suited for the occasion, as those might help her get her Christmas wish.

She had practiced long and hard going corporeal. At first, it was simple things, like picking up a book, but soon she was helping Lenore hang up the Christmas decorations and adorning the tree. She had told Lenore in hushed tones what she wanted for Christmas, and after a few reprimands about how “it was about time,” mistletoe had been hung in strategic doorways of the house. One in the hallway outside of his study, one in the foyer, one in the library…

Annabel knew the most likely place to catch Edgar was in the library. It was their favorite place in the house, and they often read in separate chairs, enjoying each other’s silent company. It was a snowy evening, and the fire popped and crackled like the fireworks Lenore had dragged her to see on the Fourth of July. Annabel couldn’t even name the book she was reading, she was so nervous, but turned a page once in a while. Her gaze flickered to the plant on the doorway or to Edgar every few moments. If he had noticed the mistletoe, he didn’t show it.

“I’m going to prepare some tea,” he said, rising from his chair. “Would you like some, Annabel?” He knew she couldn’t actually consume it, but he asked nonetheless, not wanting to be rude.

She leapt to her feet, realizing that this was her opportunity. “Oh, I’ll come with you!” she exclaimed, voice a bit too fast. They weren’t quite under the doorway yet, and she tried to wedge herself so she was, at least.

He looked at her, perturbed. “Alright,” he said after a pause. She stood in the doorway, and when he was underneath it, her hand fell on his arm.

“Oh, Edgar, look! Mistletoe.” Again, her words were quick and rehearsed. He looked up, eyes widening and cheeks flushing in surprise.

“That it is,” his voice cracked. She looked at him with expectant eyes and bit her lip. He stood in stunned silence.

His eyes flickered from side to side, nearly boiling over with nerves. “Well, Annabel, it has been nice spending time with you, but I just remembered that I have some very important business to attend to. You know how it is, finances. Money.” He gave a canned laugh, coughed,  and scurried down the hallway.

“Okay,” Annabel said to the empty hallway. Her eyelids felt heavy and her head drooped down as she stared at her dress.  Had she misread the signals? Miscalculated his actions? Her throat welled up as if she would cry, but she couldn’t, wasn’t physically able to.

She guessed she wouldn’t be getting her Christmas gift this year.

* * *

 

The sting of rejection burned. Lenore had held her hand consolingly as she poured her heart out. Her chest heaved as if she were crying, but no water came out of her eyes.

With a huff, Lenore stood. “Nobody, especially the brooding emo boy who is head over heels for you, breaks Anna Banana’s heart and gets away with it.” Before Annabel could protest, Lenore disappeared.

Nervous as ever, she tried to knit, but couldn’t concentrate enough to keep the needles from falling through her hands. The project she was working on was a scarf for Edgar, anyway, and it only served to remind her of him.

Turning to books, she attempted to read- in her room this time, not the library -to take her mind off things. The problems of others made Annabel’s fade, and soon she could let her mind ease.

Until there was a rapping at her chamber door.

The knock startled her out of the escapade unraveling in her novel, and she closed it with a soft thud. “Who is it?” she squeaked.

A cough, and then a pause. “Annabel Lee, it is Edgar Allan Poe. I have come to apologize.” She opened the door slowly, toying with the idea of vanishing through the floor. An apology rooted in pity was worse than no apology at all.

“Yes?” she said.

“I’ve realized what a mistake I made in rejecting your earlier...proposition.” His voice was cold and devoid of emotion.

What little hope she had deflated at his businesslike tone. “Alright. Apology accepted,” she swallowed, and moved to close the door.  The sting that had subsided came raging back.

“Annabel,” he said, voice as soft as a well worn paperback, unwilling to let her go so easily this time. His hand lingered over her arm, unsure if she was corporeal, but she instinctively leaned forward, letting him touch her.

“Yes?” her voice creaked. He gently pushed the door open in reply, and a patch of green dangled under the doorcasing- oh.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to...well, make it up to you, as it were.” He teetered, gaze down at the floor. 

“Um. There’s mistletoe, Annabel,” he said, as if noticing it for the first time.

She smiled, mouth slightly ajar. “Edgar...”

He inched closer. “Annabel...” She leaned in as his hand cupped her cheek, and her eyes fluttered shut as he gently brought his lips to hers. He smelled like gingerbread and the must of the fireplace, and was warm like the air around a candle. It was barely a kiss, but her hands were shaking as he pulled away.

“Oh,” she said, not in reaction to anything in particular. He gave her a soft smile and his hand lingered on her cheek.

She glanced up at the mistletoe again. Perhaps it was greedy, but she wanted to double her Christmas present. “You, you know, Edgar, the first kiss was just to make up for the one before. We are under the mistletoe a second time.”

His smile widened, and his gaze broke from her eyes to his shoes. “Yes, we are.”

She waited a moment, and when there was no objection, she kissed him again, more fervently this time. She let her arms slip around his neck as his spare hand fell into her hair. His embrace was like a warm blanket. Oh, how she loved him.

He pulled away first, but let his nose bump into hers. “Merry Christmas, Annabel Lee.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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